Duels of Honor (Part One)
Title: Duels of Honor (Part One)
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Rating: M
Characters: Zuko, Katara, Sokka, Toph, Suki, Hakoda, Iroh, June (Zutara)
Genre: Angst/Romance
Warnings: Non-explicit sex.
Summary:
Sozin's Comet is approaching, and people have the power to shape their own destinies. Sparrowkeet!verse.
A/N: Sorry this took so long -- and sorry it's in two pieces. It was becoming unmanageable.
Duels of Honor
(Part One)
The coming of honor or disgrace must be a reflection of one's inner power.
-Xun Zi
Aang is gone when they wake up.
They search for hours. They track his steps out to the sea. They comb the house, the beach, the town, every inch of Ember Island. The Avatar is nowhere to be found, and the argument that results is less than mild.
"We have to find him. He could be in trouble. He could need us."
"Oh, please."
"Look, it doesn't matter. We have to go."
"And do what, exactly?"
"Meet with Dad and the fleet. Get ready for the attack. Aang might be doing his own thing, but the rest of us have to be there to help the others."
"It's suicide without Twinkletoes."
"We've got to try. And we can still save Omashu."
"For how long? My father's going to turn around as soon as he's done with Ba Sing Se--"
"Well, then, maybe we should just kidnap my sister instead and--"
"I didn't--"
"SHUT UP!" Katara shouts from the stone steps. "All of you just shut up!"
An embarrassed silence falls over the yard, and silence is the best thing Katara can imagine. She's sick of the fighting and stress and constantly changing plans. Sometimes it feels like losing to Ozai would be better than this endless uncertainty.
Now Aang is missing. They're almost out of time.
Katara looks up to find three pairs of eyes on her -- the fourth pair staring sightlessly into the distance. They are waiting for her to pick a side. Somewhere on this journey she turned into the fixer, the referee, the mother, the--
She glances at Zuko.
The something.
It is best not to dwell on that. "Let's go to the rendezvous point," Katara says, standing up. "Aang's probably already there waiting for us."
Almost everyone nods.
The last of the bags are loaded -- food and weapons only, they're not going to need anything else from here on -- but Zuko waits stiffly on the other side of the courtyard. Katara walks over to him. "We have to go," she says under her breath. "Aang will be there. Don't worry."
"He ran off, Katara." His words are short; his focus is all on the people in the sky bison's saddle. "He couldn't handle it and he ran."
"No. Aang's not like that."
"So why isn't he here?"
"He must have had something he needed to do."
"Such as?"
Katara doesn't have the patience for this. "I don't know, okay? But he'll come back. He has to."
Zuko looks down at her with some messy combination of fury and loss. "Just because people have to come back," he says, "doesn't mean they will."
She does not know what to say in response.
***
Aang is not at the rendezvous point.
Neither is Iroh.
Hakoda's frown pulls unfamiliar lines around his mouth; Katara is quite certain they weren't there three years ago. "If the Avatar and General Iroh aren't with you, then where are they?"
No one has an answer. Even Toph looks grim now.
The wide sea stretches beyond the edge of the cliff, and two dozen purple sails cut into the orange of the setting sun. Those sails might be all that stand between the Fire Lord and the rest of the world.
Katara's hand seeks Zuko's -- then she catches the expression on Sokka's face. She had asked Sokka not to tell their father about... everything, and after over an hour of reasoning, cajoling, and flat-out begging, he'd finally agreed to keep his mouth shut. At least until after the comet has come and gone.
But it is best not to push her luck.
Katara drops her hand and steps away from Zuko, who doesn't seem to have noticed. He's busy staring out at the purple sails, too.
***
She finds herself cooking. Normally she doesn't mind -- she took on that responsibility willingly, after all -- but there's a difference between fixing a stew for a few close friends and supervising a meal for an entire camp. The warriors seem to assume that dinner will be provided without any of their assistance, just because a Water Tribe woman is there. Katara half expects them to drop off their dirty clothes to be washed and mended.
As she stirs the soup, she thinks of the Fire Nation women she's seen: in uniform, running shops, drinking and shouting and laughing. Bringing down cities.
She wonders what would happen if someone told Azula to go cook while the men talked.
"What's so funny?" Zuko asks, glancing up from the fire, which has gone from blazing flames to perfect roasting embers with just a few gestures.
Katara bites back her giggles. "Nothing." At his skeptical look, she adds, "I'll tell you another time."
There is an audible huff from Sokka -- followed by a grunt as Toph elbows him in the ribs.
The group around their little fire is subdued as they eat, but even subdued, it's nice to have everyone back again. It feels right to have Haru and Teo sitting next to Suki, and for Pipsqueak and the Duke to be chatting with Toph.
But no Aang.
It is Suki who finally says, "So... what now?"
Katara is pleased to see her father look to Sokka, who pokes his chopsticks at an empty bowl and stares thoughtfully out over the rest of the camp. "You're sure Sifu Iroh isn't coming?" he asks Hakoda.
Hakoda shakes his head, looking annoyed. "Iroh didn't tell me anything."
Sokka sighs. "Okay. Well... we have to do what we came to do. Thanks to Zuko's plans--" the words are sour "--we at least know what's going to happen. Everyone here will intercept the navy and protect Omashu. A few of us will take Appa to find the air fleet and try to sabotage as much as possible before..."
"Before we're all killed," Zuko finishes shortly.
Katara groans under her breath as Sokka narrows his eyes. "I didn't ask for your opinion," Sokka growls.
"It's not an opinion," Zuko snaps, "it's a fact. If you intercept the air fleet on a bison you'll get blasted out of the sky. There won't even be time to jump."
"That's why we'll do all we can before then," Sokka shoots back.
Katara tries not to get sick in the hush that follows.
"Twinkletoes is coming back," Toph says after a few moments. "And so is Gramps. You all are getting your ponytails in a knot over nothing."
"But Gramps-- uh, Uncle doesn't know that Aang has run off."
"He hasn't run off." If Katara is sure of anything, she's sure of that. "Just because we don't know where he is or what he's doing doesn't mean he's abandoned us."
"If he has--" Zuko cringes slightly under the heat of Katara's glare, and repeats with emphasis, "If he has, then we need Uncle to stop whatever he's planning to do and go fight my father instead. He's the only one who can."
There's a long, stunned silence.
"Wait." Haru blinks multiple times. "If General Iroh can fight Ozai, why hasn't he done it already? Why hasn't that been the plan from the beginning?"
Zuko rubs his nose. Katara notices how hollow his face is around the scar, and wonders when he's last had a proper night of sleep. "It's the Avatar's destiny to defeat the Fire Lord," Zuko admits. "But Uncle might stand a chance. And if we all help him--"
"We can't abandon everyone else." Sokka makes a wide gesture at the Water Tribe men eating their dinners. "We can't just forget about the air fleet."
"I didn't say we should!"
"Then what were you saying?"
"If you hadn't interrupted--"
"Boys," Hakoda says, glancing between Zuko and Sokka with obvious puzzlement. "Calm down."
Katara wonders if anyone in camp has the ingredients for a Spark Bomb. She could use a drink.
"There's only one thing to do." Zuko's voice takes on the firmness of a crown prince who has made his final decision. "I have to go find Uncle."
Sokka is clearly unimpressed. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but there's a whole world to search and only a few days to do it. Sifu Iroh's not gonna be that easy to find on foot, even if he is a big guy."
"I know someone who knows how to locate people," Zuko says. "And I'll go on Appa."
"Wait a minute--"
"Then how are we supposed to--"
The smoke from Zuko's sigh makes Katara cough. "Haru, the war balloon's still working, right?"
Haru nods. "It's hidden behind a rise near here."
"Good. Then you all can take that. The Fire Nation's a lot less likely to notice one of their own ships joining them then they are a giant white hairball."
Appa's rumble is indignant.
"That sounds good to me," Katara jumps in. The sooner Zuko and Sokka are apart, the better -- and come to think of it, Aang could even be with Iroh. He could be trying to break through his firebending block this very minute. That would be wonderful.
Though a note would have been nice.
Sokka looks like he's trying to come up with some objection; Katara resists the urge to warn him that his face will stick in that scowl if he's not careful. But finally he humphs and pokes a stick at the fire. "Fine," he says. "You go find Iroh. The rest of us will get ready for battle."
It's the last dinner they'll spend together, then.
Katara makes herself eat, even though she's not hungry.
***
The stars are only beginning to fade when Katara sneaks out of her tent and tiptoes across the wet morning grass. Zuko starts in surprise as she approaches -- then glares as she tosses her sack into Appa's saddle. "You're not coming," he says.
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not."
Katara completely ignores his livid expression as she fists her hands in warm, shaggy fur and hoists herself up. "You're planning to find General Iroh and then help him fight the Fire Lord."
"That's right."
"Well, while you're watching Iroh's back," she says loftily, "someone has to watch yours."
Zuko has a look on his face, one that's ridiculously easy to read. Katara knows he's wondering how much time it would take to yank her off the sky bison and force her backward with fire until he can take off.
Appa turns to the Prince and issues a low, warning growl.
Katara smirks. "You're outvoted, Zuko."
Zuko glowers at them both... then sighs. "Fine," he grumbles, climbing into position behind Appa's horns. "Let's get out of here before your idiot brother tries to kill me."
"Don't worry," Katara says. "I leave notes."
***
Sokka,
I wasn't kidnapped.
Good luck against the fleet. Be careful.
Love,
Katara
PS. DON'T TELL DAD.
***
To Katara's extreme annoyance, Zuko refuses to divulge where they're going. This means she can't drive. When she points out that that will only exhaust him, he snaps that she needs the sleep more than he does. She almost throws her waterskin at the back of his head.
They're both irritable. And tired. And maybe a little afraid.
By the time the noon summer sun beats down Zuko's chin is dropping to his chest; twice he nearly falls off Appa's head. Katara has had enough. She wraps two ropes of water around his shoulders and yanks him into the saddle before he's even fully conscious.
He wakes up when he lands on her, though.
Katara twists from underneath his surprised form and slides down to grab the reins before he can object. They bicker for a few minutes, then Zuko reluctantly instructs her to keep heading northeast for the rest of the afternoon. He's asleep before they pass the next cloud bank.
Katara tries not to think about the familiar feel of his weight.
Her body had missed him long before the rest of her did.
***
The obviously disreputable bar is full of huge, unsavory types. Katara doesn't get intimidated quickly or easily, but she does a swift mental survey of every glass of water in the room, just in case. There's already a fight breaking out by one of the tables. "And the reason you've brought me to this seedy Earth Kingdom tavern is what now?" Katara asks suspiciously.
Zuko points at the fight. The fight involving a tall woman with long hair. "June."
Katara's already bad mood takes a sudden turn for the worse.
They pick their way through the increasingly rowdy crowd, and Katara doesn't failed to notice how all the men in the room seem to be aware of June's every movement. Katara has never failed to notice that. Even Zuko stares as, from a sitting position, the obnoxiously beautiful bounty hunter kicks a drunk in the chin.
Not that that bothers a Master Waterbender.
She crosses her arms under her breasts with a sniff.
June looks up as they approach the table, and rolls her eyes. Or rolls the eye not covered by her hair, anyway. Katara wonders bitterly if maybe she only has one eye. "Oh, great," June says. "It's Prince Pouty." Zuko makes a face -- which is pouty -- and she sips from her steaming cup before continuing, "Where's your creepy grandpa?"
"He's my uncle. And he's not here. That's what I need to talk to you about."
"Oh, is it." June glances at Katara. "I see you worked things out with your girlfriend."
Zuko's good cheek positively glows red. "She's not my girlfriend," he mutters.
"Just as well." The bounty hunter smirks at them as she moves to take a swig. "She's still too pretty for you."
A second later, a giant ice cube slides out of June's cup and hits her in the nose. "Sorry," Katara says sweetly as the ice falls to the floor and shatters. "Were you drinking that?"
"Sheesh. I was only teasing."
***
Searching for Iroh does not motivate June. The end of the world catches her attention, but still does not get her up from her seat. It is when Katara turns the woman's second drink to ice, and then the third, that June reluctantly agrees to turn her shirshu on to Iroh's scent.
As Zuko holds up one of Iroh's old sandals, Katara considers for a moment suggesting that they track Aang instead. She sets the idea aside. Aang will come back on his own. Katara has faith.
***
The ghoulish tracker animal is the fastest thing Katara has ever seen; there are several times over the course of the next twenty-four hours that she is sure Appa will be left behind. But the sky bison has reserves Katara never even imagined; the clouds part as he speeds through them, and she and Zuko are forced to lie on their bellies for fear of being blown off into open air.
The wind roars in their ears and it's too loud to speak. Katara has nothing to do but reflect on what is happening, on what has happened, on what will happen. She wonders if Zuko is doing the same. It's hard to tell. His eyes stay closed; he has never liked flying, even at reasonable velocities. Katara can't read his expression beyond 'airsick'.
She attempts, once more, to reconcile the person who chased them across the world with the person who touched her on red cushions with the person who trained Aang on Ember Island. She still can't do it. It makes her head hurt to try. The three Zukos stay compartmentalized, and Katara hides her face against the soft cushion of the saddle.
***
The endless stretch of tall stone blends into the night sky, but Katara can still see the great rent in the side, wide enough for an army to march through. Azula brought the walls down.
"We're going to Ba Sing Se," she informs Zuko, who still hasn't looked up.
A feeble whimper is his only response.
Appa lands a few minutes later and immediately rolls onto his side, panting for breath; Katara and Zuko tumble out of the saddle in a heap. Katara jams her elbow against a rock and curses. Zuko throws up.
June hops down from her mount as though she's done nothing more than take a leisurely jaunt through the countryside. The shirshu doesn't even look winded. "Your uncle's somewhere that way," says June, gesturing in towards the farmland crushed by soldiers' boots. "Nyla's getting twitchy, so he can't be too far."
Katara nods. "Thank you," she says.
The older woman doesn't acknowledge the gratitude. "I didn't do it for free," she reminds them.
"You'll get paid as soon as we find General Iroh," says Katara. She is lying through her teeth; Katara actually has no idea whether or not Iroh will have the kind of money they have promised. She doubts it. Still, a little dishonesty isn't that important when weighed against the end of the world.
June gets an ugly look on her face. "You better not have made a promise you couldn't keep." Her voice takes on a slight Fire Nation accent. "It wouldn't be honorable."
"I keep my promises," Zuko snarls, still on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Katara does not understand the Fire Nation's obsession with honor. She doesn't think she ever will.
***
It is too late to start searching, too dark to set up their tents. June snuggles against Nyla's flank; Katara and Zuko curl on Appa's wide tail.
The strong, cold wind reminds Katara just how far north the Impenetrable City really is. At first she tries to draw warmth from the fur of the sky bison -- but before long she finds herself edging closer and closer to the source of heat by her side, until she's inches from Zuko's body. A Firebender is better than a sealskin sleeping bag.
Yue shines overhead. Katara realizes Zuko is awake and quietly watching her movements. "You should sleep," she whispers.
"I know," he says.
There's no point in asking again. He would sleep, she suspects, if she came a little bit nearer... but they've never done that. A few times she's drifted off while he was there -- when she was worn out by their 'sparring', when she'd cried herself to exhaustion after Yon Ra -- but that's different than letting it happen on purpose.
Before she has too long to ponder this, however, there's a rustling noise -- and June is up in a flash, whips in hand. "Someone's coming," she says tersely.
Katara is hardly to her feet when they are surrounded by a ring of orange flame. Appa howls in terror and she's got her waterskin uncorked and Zuko moves into a grounded stance, his back against hers.
Shadows above them, playing against the light of the fire. A familiar snorting laugh. "Well, look who's here!"
Katara's mouth falls open. Zuko swears. And June snaps a whip against King Bumi's head, which puts a stop to his laughter in a hurry.
***
Apparently all old people know each other, which is disturbing on more than a few levels. The fact that her old master has met Sokka's old master has met Aang's old master... "Do you think they talk about us?" she whispers to Zuko. It's an utterly terrifying prospect.
Zuko doesn't answer. Tension rolls off of his body in waves. Bumi, however, feels the need to say: "Of course! What do you think we do when we're not playing pai sho? Knit?"
"Right," Katara mutters. It's too late to fly away.
Nyla strains against June's bonds, trying to speed their little party towards what amounts to a small village of tents. "So the kid's creepy uncle is here," June says.
"General Iroh is a Grand Master of the White Lotus," says Master Pakku, giving the bounty hunter a severe look. "Speak with respect, woman."
Katara thinks that marriage has not changed Pakku very much. Still, perhaps he is more polite in front of Gran-Gran; she can't imagine her grandmother would allow a comment like that to pass without a solid tongue-lashing.
The idea of Gran-Gran giving Master Pakku a tongue-lashing is the most horrible image Katara has ever had. She quickly distracts herself by asking for an explanation of Bumi's escape from Omashu, which leads to a general discussion of how everyone spent the Day of Black Sun. June's tale of her capture of five wanted firebenders during the eight minute eclipse is unanimously declared to be the most impressive.
Zuko remains silent.
***
Katara is put in a tent intended for a White Lotus member who has yet to arrive, and as she drops her meager sack next to her bed she considers that this is a significantly more comfortable set up than Appa's tail. Still, she is restless, despite the late hour. She wanders the camp for awhile. There are surprisingly few benders, all things considered; she thinks Sokka would have fit in nicely, and makes a mental note to tell him about it when she sees him again. If she sees him again.
Of course she will see him again.
She spies Zuko kneeling outside a large tent in the center of camp, his head bowed. It does not take much insight to guess who must lie behind the canvas flaps.
Katara approaches on soft feet. "Are you okay?"
"No," he snaps. "I'm not okay."
It was a stupid question, really. Katara kneels down beside him, and he turns his face away. "It'll be fine," she says.
He shakes his head. "My uncle hates me," he whispers. "I know it."
"He doesn't hate you." They have had this conversation before; everyone has had this conversation before. But no matter how many times they say it, the truth never sinks into the Fire Prince's head. "I talked to him. All he wanted was to know if you were okay. He defended you to Aang, to Sokka, to my dad... he loves you, Zuko."
"Exactly," Zuko says. His robes are dirty from the mud, but so are Katara's. "He loved me and supported me in every way he could... and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?"
"But you're sorry for what you did, right?"
"More sorry than I've ever been about anything in my entire life." He pauses, then glances sideways at Katara. "Well, almost," he amends.
"Then he'll forgive you," Katara says firmly. "I forgave you."
She did. It was difficult, it took a long time, and there are all kinds of things it does and doesn't mean... but she forgave him.
A moment later Zuko gets to his feet and steps forward into Iroh's tent with a heavy exhale, and Katara heads back to bed with a feeling of melancholy satisfaction; they are two emotions she never thought would go together, but somehow, with Zuko, they always fit like puzzle pieces.
***
In the morning Katara is not surprised to see General Iroh and Prince Zuko sharing tea -- nor is she surprised to see that Zuko looks happier than he has in weeks. What does surprise her, however, is that Iroh leaps to his feet with shocking agility for an old man and hugs her so fiercely she nearly falls over. "Um, good morning, General," she chokes out as the the air is squeezed from her lungs.
"It is wonderful to see you again, my dear." The embrace doesn't lessen for a moment, and Katara gives Zuko a slightly desperate look over Iroh's shoulder. Zuko hits his face with his palm.
Over the next half hour Iroh quizzes Katara on the most random details: her favorite tea, her favorite color, whether she likes her komodo hen eggs fried or scrambled, if she thought the Fire Nation weather was too warm, and a thousand and one other things of no particular relevance. Katara tries to answer though her mounting confusion while Zuko sinks lower and lower, like he's trying to melt into the ground and disappear.
Finally, as Iroh takes a breath -- having asked the urgent question of whether Katara prefers swimming in oceans or rivers -- Zuko bursts out, "Uncle, none of this is important!"
"Of course it is," says the Dragon of the West, innocently wide-eyed. "I haven't gotten her opinion on fire lilies yet."
Katara blinks. "They're all right, I guess."
"How is knowing what kind of flowers she likes going to help with anything?"
Iroh's expression manages to be appalled, amused, and pitying all at the same time. "Oh, Prince Zuko, you have so much to learn."
Zuko turns sea prune purple. "I meant," he says with slow, exaggerated patience, "help with the battle. You're the only person other than the Avatar who might defeat the Father Lord, so try to focus."
Katara does not miss his slip of the tongue, and she can tell Iroh didn't either; all merriment is gone as he sips his tea. "I cannot fight him, Zuko," he says gently.
"You can," Zuko insists. "With Katara and I there to help--"
"No, nephew, there is no time for that. You must leave for the Capital as soon as possible." Iroh's words are grave. "Ozai has declared himself Phoenix King, and Azula is about to be coronated the new Fire Lord. If you don't challenge your sister's claim before that happens, it will take civil war to remove her from the throne."
A shiver of fear runs through Katara at the thought of the Princess in full control of fleets, armies, benders... even if battle didn't spread beyond the archipelago, the Fire Nation would be destroyed. Katara has seen too much of the land and people to be anything but horrified at the thought. "We can't let that happen," she says to Zuko. "She has to be stopped."
Zuko looks as sick as she feels. "Absolutely," he agrees. Then he turns back to his uncle. "Okay, we won't be here, then. But that doesn't mean you can't challenge my father. You have all these people on your side--"
But Iroh shakes his head. "Even if I did defeat Ozai," he says, "and I don't know that I could... it would be the wrong way to end the war. History would see it as just more senseless violence -- a brother killing a brother to grab power. The only way for this war to end peacefully is for the Avatar to defeat the Fire Lord."
It's no more or less than what Katara expected Iroh to say, but Zuko shivers visibly with anger. "And if the Avatar doesn't come back?"
"Aang is coming back," Katara interjects.
"You don't know that! None of you know that!"
"Sozin's Comet is arriving, and our destinies are upon us." Iroh sets aside his cup and regards Zuko levelly. "You and I both trained that boy. He is made of stronger stuff than you acknowledge. Aang will face his destiny as well."
The flames in the camp fire blaze for a moment -- then Zuko storms off, disappearing out of sight between the tents.
Iroh sighs. "Don't worry," he says. "Prince Zuko has... difficulties with his temper from time to time."
"I know," she says, a touch sharper than she intended. Katara finds herself surprisingly annoyed that anyone, even Iroh, would imply they know more about the Fire Prince than her. She pokes at her bowl of porridge and eggs, torn between wanting to go after Zuko and wanting to leave him until he gets his ridiculous sulk out of the way. He may not like Aang, but Zuko ought to have more faith -- in her judgment, if nothing else. The Avatar will return, and he will defeat Ozai.
The other side of the world is different matter entirely. "General Iroh--"
"Please," Iroh says warmly, "call me Uncle."
Katara opens her mouth, then closes it and wonders what on earth Zuko and Iroh talked about last night. "Uncle," she says, "about Princess Azula... she's already too powerful." She struggles to articulate her concerns without implying doubt that she doesn't have. "With the comet, I'm not sure she'll be much easier to defeat than Ozai."
There is a long pause -- and then Iroh's smile is delighted. "You are worried about my nephew's safety?"
Her cheeks turn hot. "Of course I am," she says quickly. "He's part of our group. And he's a great bender, but it's going to be tough." She doesn't share the foundation of her concern: Zuko, thrown across the deck of Azula's ship, and the hour afterward that Katara spent knitting together his cracked ribs. It's all she can see when she thinks of the Fire Prince and Princess in combat.
"He will need your help," says Iroh.
"I know that." She knows that. "Master Pakku trained me himself--"
"I am not talking about bending." Out of nowhere, there is an intensity in Iroh that Katara hasn't seen before. It fills her with unease. "Bending has never been the edge Azula holds over Zuko, and that is not where he will need you most."
It's a cryptic response. Katara wants to ask more questions -- but before she can say a word, she is sidetracked with a series of questions about what sort of music she enjoys on the tsungi horn.
***
She goes searching for Zuko and runs into the side of a bear instead.
King Kuei is delighted to see her, and without much prompting from Katara starts happily describing all his adventures since the fall of the Earth Kingdom. The importance of his presence at the retaking of Ba Sing Se -- for fear that otherwise the invasion will be seen as nothing more than the final triumph of the Dragon of the West -- means that he is traveling with the White Lotus forces. Katara fears for his enthusiasm.
"You know it's going to be very dangerous," she tells the Earth King, again. "So... make sure you're careful."
"He'll be fine." June comes up behind them, loading her shirshu with packs. She looks out of temper even by her standards. "I'm keeping an eye on him -- for a price." She glares at Kuei. "Anything I want from the palace," she growls. "First pick."
Kuei nods so hard his hat almost falls off. "Yep. Anything. It's all yours." Katara notes the love-lorn admiration in his words.
Maybe this means people will start gossiping about them instead of her.
Or maybe not. Zuko appears from behind a tent, rubbing the back of his neck and looking shamefaced. Katara smiles at him -- at least his pout didn't last too long, all things considered -- and he gives her a half-smile back. A moment later a paper packet drops into Katara's hands.
"Take that," June says dryly, hopping onto Nyla as Kuei climbs awkwardly onto Bosco. "And try not to get into too much trouble, or it's you they'll be hiring me to hunt down. Again."
The packet is full of black dragon root.
Katara stalks off with thin lips and narrowed eyes, and everyone has the sense to get out of her way.
***
By noon Appa is loaded and they are ready to head west -- to face their destinies, Katara supposes. Zuko takes the reins, then pauses and looks down at Iroh. "Uncle... I still don't know if I--"
"The man who has lost his way and found it again," Iroh says evenly, "is stronger than the man who has never strayed from his path."
Katara thinks on this for the rest of the afternoon.
***
"It's my turn to drive."
"No, it's not."
"Yes, it is." Katara crosses her arms over the edge of the saddle and glares down at Zuko. It is late evening and they have been flying for hours. "Are we going to have this fight every time we travel?"
"Probably."
Katara makes an aggravated noise and flops backward, spread-eagled. "Ugh. Men. You're worse than Sokka sometimes."
She can't see Zuko's wince, but she knows it's there anyway. "I'm not that bad."
"Then prove it. Let me drive."
"No."
"See? Men!"
The rumbling noise from Appa is clearly disgusted.
There's a long, very put-upon sigh. "It's almost time to camp." Zuko pulls on the reins, and the sky bison sinks a little lower closer to the earth. "You can drive tomorrow."
Katara picks at the tangles in her hair peevishly. "You're lying."
"I don't lie," he snaps.
True. "You can't lie," Katara corrects herself. "There's a difference."
"I can too. I hid in the Earth Kingdom, didn't I?"
"And let me guess -- every time you opened your mouth, you got in trouble."
The sullen silence tells her everything she needs to know. "Yeah, well," he says finally, "Azula got all the talent in the family."
His tone bothers Katara, and she returns to the edge of the saddle to look down. "All the talent at lying, you mean."
"All the talent at everything."
A long pause, during which Katara watches the wind pull at Zuko's hair. She's not sure how he can see without it pulled back. "It's going to be a problem when you're Fire Lord," she says. Katara is an idealist, but she's not an idiot. Even Aang had to make up a story about a ball game to stop the century-long feud between the Gan Jins and the Zhangs. Sometimes leaders have to lie, and if Zuko doesn't learn how, he's going to be in a lot of trouble. "Maybe you should practice. Tell me a lie, and I'll tell you if you sound believable."
Zuko glances over his shoulder and gives her a withering look. She simply raises an eyebrow. "Fine," he says. "My name is Lee, and this--" he pats Appa "--is my uncle, Mushi."
If Sokka had declared Momo to be the Earth King, Katara would have found it more believable. "That was awful."
"Thanks. Let's hear you do--"
His words are cut off with a sharp inhale. An instant later, Katara feels it too: a strange, dizzying magnetism, like her blood is trying to move in the wrong direction. She finds herself sliding downward, unable to sit upright in a world off its axis. Zuko groans through gritted teeth -- a sound she hasn't heard in months -- so whatever's happening, it's certainly not hurting him.
The clouds race away as the sky turns red.
***
They land quickly. Zuko jumps off of Appa, staring at the barren rockland, at the glow overhead, at his own hands. His chest heaves as he paces and sucks in lungfuls of air. "This feels amazing," he says breathlessly. "This feels incredible."
"Uh-huh." Katara stumbles to the ground, working hard to stay on her feet. Gravity has completely shifted. The push and pull of her body is all wrong.
"Now I know why Sozin did it. It feels like I could take over the world, like I--" He clearly catches to whom he's speaking, because he adds hastily, "Not that I would, I'm just saying... Katara? Are you all right? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she says automatically. "I'm fine." It's partly true. As she straightens and takes a few steps, she can sense her equilibrium begin to adjust, like finding her sea legs. "It's just the comet. It... feels weird." It's a second moon, creating another tide.
Zuko doesn't look at all convinced. "You're moving like a newborn ostrich horse."
"No, see? It's getting better." Her body and chi are already compensating, working with the new sensations. A few circles around Appa -- who grunts at her in a concerned fashion, though maybe he's just hungry -- and she feels close to normal. "How are you?"
The soon-to-be Fire Lord makes a small bending motion, one that shouldn't create more than a puff of smoke. Flames whoosh ten feet in every direction. "Good," he says. "I'm good."
***
Waterbender and Firebender spar until they can barely stand. Zuko tries to refuse because of the comet, which puts them on inherently unequal grounds, until Katara points out that Azula won't care very much about fairness. She can tell Zuko's holding back anyway -- but in the beginning that's a good thing, because he could very well have killed her otherwise.
Her bending has gone as strange as her balance. The first few tries send splashes everywhere; Appa quickly moves to the other side of the clearing and refuses to come back, bellowing at them indignantly if they call in his direction. After bit of practice, though, she figures out how to adjust her stance and her flow -- and realizes that the more heavily she leans on the hybridized moves she developed from watching Zuko, the more successful she is. She uses her upper body less and focuses instead on her legs, giving up fluidity in favor of sharpness and speed; by the time they're finished she feels more like a Firebender than a Waterbender, but at least her element is obeying her again.
The Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, on the other hand, has in the space of an hour become the most powerful combatant Katara's ever seen -- once he figures out how not to burn down the entire valley by accident. It's not long before they're collapsed on opposite sides of the camp fire, gulping down tea and rice cakes. "Feels like old times," Katara says, healing a blistered welt on her forearm.
Zuko glances over... then smiles hesitantly. "If you really want it to feel like old times," he offers, "I could tie you to a tree."
Katara's both exhausted and full of adrenaline. She can't help bursting into giggles. It was so long ago. "We could have Appa dress up as a pirate!"
Zuko starts to laugh too -- or rather, the rusty chuckle that passes for his laughter. Katara has noticed that he never looks happier than when someone likes a joke he's found the courage to tell. "Use a stick as a waterbending scroll," he suggests, eyes gleaming.
She nods vigorously. "And you've already got my necklace, so..." But then she trails off, because she doesn't know how to finish that sentence.
"Yeah," he says, looking away. His thumb brushes against his pocket. Katara knows that's where he keeps it, where he's been keeping it ever since he came to the Western Air Temple and she made clear that what had happened on the ship was not to be discussed -- for all the good that did.
She's not taking the necklace back. She gave it to him. That makes it his necklace, and if he gives it back he's not returning it, he's...
Katara wasn't raised in the Northern Water Tribe or with their customs, but there's still too much symbolism there.
To change the subject she says, "I wonder if the others are okay."
"They're fine." Zuko breaks off a piece of firewood; he lights it with his hand before tossing it into the flames. "Sokka knows what he's doing."
"Can I tell him you said that?"
"No."
"Didn't think so." She reclines onto her side and rests her cheek against the palm of her hand. "I wonder if Aang's okay."
"I'm sure he's fine too." Zuko's words aren't reassuring this time. They're cold and they're sharp.
Katara's voice isn't much warmer when she replies. "He's coming back, Zuko."
"Yeah. You think so."
It feels like an insult. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demands, narrowing her eyes.
"It means you're biased," Zuko says flatly. He stares into the camp fire; light flickers against the puckered valleys of his scar. "You think he's the Spirits' gift to the universe. You never see him for what he is: a spoiled, selfish brat who's been coddled since the day he was born."
Katara is so angry that for a few moments she literally can't speak. "You don't know what you're talking about," she eventually says, once she's sure she won't bite through her own tongue. "You have no idea the kind of things he's been through."
"I'm sure it's so much worse than everyone else's life."
"I didn't say it was! But no one else is under the same kind of pressure! How would you feel if you were told you had to save the world when you were twelve?"
"I was told at ten that I'd be Fire Lord one day."
"Right, and you've never acted spoiled or selfish."
"Maybe so, but I've always done what I had to, whether I liked it or not." The fire sparks and flames brighter -- brighter than it usually would when Zuko is in bad temper, thanks to the comet fueling his power. "Aang wants to do what he wants. He doesn't want to listen to what anyone else has to say."
"That's not true! He listens to what everyone has to say! That's the problem!"
Zuko might have met the boy who came out of the iceburg, but he never knew him -- not the boy who just wanted to go penguin sledding and ride giant koi. He didn't see Aang in the Southern Air Temple, when he realized he was the last Airbender and all of his people were gone. He didn't know about the old fisherman who shouted that Aang had turned his back on the world. He wasn't there when General Fong forced Aang into the Avatar State. Zuko didn't watch as Aang heard over and over and over that he was the only one who could end the war, how the fate of the nations was all his responsibility.
"Everyone's been telling him a hundred different things about what he's supposed to think," she goes on. "It's no wonder he's confused."
"Well, I hope he gets over it before his confusion kills us all."
Katara can't believe she's having this argument, she really can't. "I've been lecturing Aang for weeks about how he ought to be nicer to you," she says furiously, getting to her feet. "Maybe I was yelling at the wrong person!"
"Please." It's her shoes that take the force of his glare. "You've never yelled at the Avatar in your life."
"What? Of course I have! That's-- you're being-- Ugh!" She stomps her foot in frustration. "The two of you drive me crazy! You're not competing with each another! You're supposed to be on the same side now!"
Zuko flinches.
Katara pauses.
She stares.
She understands.
"You are competing with each other," she says, stunned. When he doesn't reply she knows she's right, but that doesn't mean it makes sense. "Why?"
"Forget it," Zuko mumbles. "It doesn't matter."
Katara is going to drown them both, Avatar and Fire Lord or not. "This is absolutely the stupidest thing I've ever--"
"Everyone likes him." The sticks crackling in the fire are louder than his words. "Not just you. Everyone we meet. He doesn't even have to try."
Katara starts to protest, but stops herself. They'd both know she was lying. Everyone does like Aang, and even when Zuko puts in effort it takes time to warm up to him. "Some people are just more... personable," she says, gentler now. "It doesn't mean anything."
"It means they were born lucky."
"Exactly." Those are the words she was looking for. "It's only luck, you know?"
Zuko's head just lowers further. "Believe me, I know."
It's late; it seems wrong to leave him like this, but Katara isn't sure what else she's supposed to say. It's easier with Aang; she just thinks of how her mother would have handled the situation, and Aang cheers up. It doesn't work like that with Zuko. "I'm going to bed," she tells him. "Try to be in a better mood tomorrow morning."
He just snorts and uses a wrist movement to coax the flames into a glimmering red whirlpool.
It's the same bend she would use on water.
***
She can't sleep.
This is not new for Katara. Sometimes she thinks she hasn't slept -- really slept -- since the day Ba Sing Se fell. She certainly didn't on Azula's ship, and since then it has been difficult as well, because her logical mind and confused heart haven't been able to explain to her frustrated body why it can't have what it had grown accustomed to. Her body only understands that good things happened to it while in captivity, and now it robs her of restful nights. Particularly since Zuko arrived at the Western Air Temple.
But Katara is a whole person who is not made solely of urging hormones; they did not rule her nor make her decisions... except sometimes they were accompanied by an empty sadness, one that felt like a physical thing, as though her bones had been sucked clean of marrow. In those particularly uneasy hours she would give her aches some semblence of what they wanted, and close her eyes as she imagined her fingers belonged to someone else. It always left her hollow.
She is hollow now.
Tomorrow they will be in the Fire Nation, just their little invasion force of two -- three, if she counts Appa. Katara tries to remind herself that Azula only needed three to bring down the Earth Kingdom. It doesn't help. She's not Azula. Neither is Zuko.
She wonders if he's feeling hollow too.
Without consciously thinking about it, she finds herself crawling out of the tent.
The sky is still crimson on the horizon, but the night air is chilly as she tiptoes past the snoring Appa and berates herself. Not only is she allowing her baser desires to control her, she is doing it in spite of the fact that her heart is no less unsettled today than it was months ago. It is unfair to him. It is unfair to her.
But then again, they might both be dead by this time tomorrow and it won't make any difference.
These tents, taken from the Water Tribe warriors, are smaller than the ones she's used to; when she lifts the flap and Zuko sits up, his head brushes the ceiling. "Katara? What's going--"
"Nothing." She grabs his wrist, which stops him from pulling out the broadswords and slicing up whatever threat he thinks has sent her to him in the middle of the night. "I was... just..."
It suddenly occurs to her that he might say no. This isn't exactly a good time, after all. They're supposed to go to war in a few hours.
Still, she leans back and tugs on the ties of her clothes. Her hair falls into her face as she does. Katara has never started this before, never, and she knows that at any moment he might tell her he won't be used and to go back to her own bed. It's nervewracking. She has no idea who it is she's trying to seduce: the Prince, the Firebender, or the boy from the ship. Any of them. All of them.
He doesn't make a sound as she shrugs out of her robe, baring herself above the waist. There's no iron or tea or red cushions. She's too nervous to look up, so she studies the stitching on the edge of his bedroll instead, noting where she needs to make repairs to the seam.
And she waits.
And waits.
And waits.
The guilt in her chest blossoms into full-on humiliation. It was stupid of her to come here. As soon as she can open her mouth to speak she's going to apologize profusely then escape with whatever dignity she can scrounge up--
Well-known fingers ghost across her ribs, curl around her waist, and give the lightest, faintest pull forward.
Katara exhales in shaky relief and meets his lips with her own.
It throws her off that he won't begin anything. He seems content just to kiss her; he doesn't take off his clothes until she starts to tug at them; he doesn't move his hands from her sides until she puts them on her breasts; he doesn't push inside until she squirms beneath him and parts her knees impatiently. She thinks she understands why he's acting like this -- he doesn't know what he's doing, neither does she, this is more foreign than familiar -- but in spite of everything she still wonders if he's only humoring her.
Any doubts are allayed when she wraps her thighs around his hips. She feels more than hears her name against her throat, and the quick forceful firebending movements that follow are exactly what she needs.
It takes so much effort not to cry out.
They're silent for long minutes afterwards. He lies on his side and brushes a calloused palm in soft circles across her belly; it's something he's done before, and again, it feels different on a bedroll in a dark tent than it did on cushions in a metal room.
"I'm scared Aang won't come back," she confesses in a whisper.
The hand on her stomach doesn't even pause. "He will."
Katara rolls Zuko over and kisses him.
***
In the morning blazing fire peeks over the sky line, brighter by far than the sun. Zuko packs quietly. Katara adds dragon root to her tea.
Sozin's Comet gains on them with every hour they fly west.
***
A/N: This took forever. Forever forever forever. But the second half isn't too far behind, I promise. I mean, it can't get any more difficult, right? RIGHT?
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Rating: M
Characters: Zuko, Katara, Sokka, Toph, Suki, Hakoda, Iroh, June (Zutara)
Genre: Angst/Romance
Warnings: Non-explicit sex.
Summary:
Sozin's Comet is approaching, and people have the power to shape their own destinies. Sparrowkeet!verse.
A/N: Sorry this took so long -- and sorry it's in two pieces. It was becoming unmanageable.
Duels of Honor
(Part One)
The coming of honor or disgrace must be a reflection of one's inner power.
-Xun Zi
Aang is gone when they wake up.
They search for hours. They track his steps out to the sea. They comb the house, the beach, the town, every inch of Ember Island. The Avatar is nowhere to be found, and the argument that results is less than mild.
"We have to find him. He could be in trouble. He could need us."
"Oh, please."
"Look, it doesn't matter. We have to go."
"And do what, exactly?"
"Meet with Dad and the fleet. Get ready for the attack. Aang might be doing his own thing, but the rest of us have to be there to help the others."
"It's suicide without Twinkletoes."
"We've got to try. And we can still save Omashu."
"For how long? My father's going to turn around as soon as he's done with Ba Sing Se--"
"Well, then, maybe we should just kidnap my sister instead and--"
"I didn't--"
"SHUT UP!" Katara shouts from the stone steps. "All of you just shut up!"
An embarrassed silence falls over the yard, and silence is the best thing Katara can imagine. She's sick of the fighting and stress and constantly changing plans. Sometimes it feels like losing to Ozai would be better than this endless uncertainty.
Now Aang is missing. They're almost out of time.
Katara looks up to find three pairs of eyes on her -- the fourth pair staring sightlessly into the distance. They are waiting for her to pick a side. Somewhere on this journey she turned into the fixer, the referee, the mother, the--
She glances at Zuko.
The something.
It is best not to dwell on that. "Let's go to the rendezvous point," Katara says, standing up. "Aang's probably already there waiting for us."
Almost everyone nods.
The last of the bags are loaded -- food and weapons only, they're not going to need anything else from here on -- but Zuko waits stiffly on the other side of the courtyard. Katara walks over to him. "We have to go," she says under her breath. "Aang will be there. Don't worry."
"He ran off, Katara." His words are short; his focus is all on the people in the sky bison's saddle. "He couldn't handle it and he ran."
"No. Aang's not like that."
"So why isn't he here?"
"He must have had something he needed to do."
"Such as?"
Katara doesn't have the patience for this. "I don't know, okay? But he'll come back. He has to."
Zuko looks down at her with some messy combination of fury and loss. "Just because people have to come back," he says, "doesn't mean they will."
She does not know what to say in response.
***
Aang is not at the rendezvous point.
Neither is Iroh.
Hakoda's frown pulls unfamiliar lines around his mouth; Katara is quite certain they weren't there three years ago. "If the Avatar and General Iroh aren't with you, then where are they?"
No one has an answer. Even Toph looks grim now.
The wide sea stretches beyond the edge of the cliff, and two dozen purple sails cut into the orange of the setting sun. Those sails might be all that stand between the Fire Lord and the rest of the world.
Katara's hand seeks Zuko's -- then she catches the expression on Sokka's face. She had asked Sokka not to tell their father about... everything, and after over an hour of reasoning, cajoling, and flat-out begging, he'd finally agreed to keep his mouth shut. At least until after the comet has come and gone.
But it is best not to push her luck.
Katara drops her hand and steps away from Zuko, who doesn't seem to have noticed. He's busy staring out at the purple sails, too.
***
She finds herself cooking. Normally she doesn't mind -- she took on that responsibility willingly, after all -- but there's a difference between fixing a stew for a few close friends and supervising a meal for an entire camp. The warriors seem to assume that dinner will be provided without any of their assistance, just because a Water Tribe woman is there. Katara half expects them to drop off their dirty clothes to be washed and mended.
As she stirs the soup, she thinks of the Fire Nation women she's seen: in uniform, running shops, drinking and shouting and laughing. Bringing down cities.
She wonders what would happen if someone told Azula to go cook while the men talked.
"What's so funny?" Zuko asks, glancing up from the fire, which has gone from blazing flames to perfect roasting embers with just a few gestures.
Katara bites back her giggles. "Nothing." At his skeptical look, she adds, "I'll tell you another time."
There is an audible huff from Sokka -- followed by a grunt as Toph elbows him in the ribs.
The group around their little fire is subdued as they eat, but even subdued, it's nice to have everyone back again. It feels right to have Haru and Teo sitting next to Suki, and for Pipsqueak and the Duke to be chatting with Toph.
But no Aang.
It is Suki who finally says, "So... what now?"
Katara is pleased to see her father look to Sokka, who pokes his chopsticks at an empty bowl and stares thoughtfully out over the rest of the camp. "You're sure Sifu Iroh isn't coming?" he asks Hakoda.
Hakoda shakes his head, looking annoyed. "Iroh didn't tell me anything."
Sokka sighs. "Okay. Well... we have to do what we came to do. Thanks to Zuko's plans--" the words are sour "--we at least know what's going to happen. Everyone here will intercept the navy and protect Omashu. A few of us will take Appa to find the air fleet and try to sabotage as much as possible before..."
"Before we're all killed," Zuko finishes shortly.
Katara groans under her breath as Sokka narrows his eyes. "I didn't ask for your opinion," Sokka growls.
"It's not an opinion," Zuko snaps, "it's a fact. If you intercept the air fleet on a bison you'll get blasted out of the sky. There won't even be time to jump."
"That's why we'll do all we can before then," Sokka shoots back.
Katara tries not to get sick in the hush that follows.
"Twinkletoes is coming back," Toph says after a few moments. "And so is Gramps. You all are getting your ponytails in a knot over nothing."
"But Gramps-- uh, Uncle doesn't know that Aang has run off."
"He hasn't run off." If Katara is sure of anything, she's sure of that. "Just because we don't know where he is or what he's doing doesn't mean he's abandoned us."
"If he has--" Zuko cringes slightly under the heat of Katara's glare, and repeats with emphasis, "If he has, then we need Uncle to stop whatever he's planning to do and go fight my father instead. He's the only one who can."
There's a long, stunned silence.
"Wait." Haru blinks multiple times. "If General Iroh can fight Ozai, why hasn't he done it already? Why hasn't that been the plan from the beginning?"
Zuko rubs his nose. Katara notices how hollow his face is around the scar, and wonders when he's last had a proper night of sleep. "It's the Avatar's destiny to defeat the Fire Lord," Zuko admits. "But Uncle might stand a chance. And if we all help him--"
"We can't abandon everyone else." Sokka makes a wide gesture at the Water Tribe men eating their dinners. "We can't just forget about the air fleet."
"I didn't say we should!"
"Then what were you saying?"
"If you hadn't interrupted--"
"Boys," Hakoda says, glancing between Zuko and Sokka with obvious puzzlement. "Calm down."
Katara wonders if anyone in camp has the ingredients for a Spark Bomb. She could use a drink.
"There's only one thing to do." Zuko's voice takes on the firmness of a crown prince who has made his final decision. "I have to go find Uncle."
Sokka is clearly unimpressed. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but there's a whole world to search and only a few days to do it. Sifu Iroh's not gonna be that easy to find on foot, even if he is a big guy."
"I know someone who knows how to locate people," Zuko says. "And I'll go on Appa."
"Wait a minute--"
"Then how are we supposed to--"
The smoke from Zuko's sigh makes Katara cough. "Haru, the war balloon's still working, right?"
Haru nods. "It's hidden behind a rise near here."
"Good. Then you all can take that. The Fire Nation's a lot less likely to notice one of their own ships joining them then they are a giant white hairball."
Appa's rumble is indignant.
"That sounds good to me," Katara jumps in. The sooner Zuko and Sokka are apart, the better -- and come to think of it, Aang could even be with Iroh. He could be trying to break through his firebending block this very minute. That would be wonderful.
Though a note would have been nice.
Sokka looks like he's trying to come up with some objection; Katara resists the urge to warn him that his face will stick in that scowl if he's not careful. But finally he humphs and pokes a stick at the fire. "Fine," he says. "You go find Iroh. The rest of us will get ready for battle."
It's the last dinner they'll spend together, then.
Katara makes herself eat, even though she's not hungry.
***
The stars are only beginning to fade when Katara sneaks out of her tent and tiptoes across the wet morning grass. Zuko starts in surprise as she approaches -- then glares as she tosses her sack into Appa's saddle. "You're not coming," he says.
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not."
Katara completely ignores his livid expression as she fists her hands in warm, shaggy fur and hoists herself up. "You're planning to find General Iroh and then help him fight the Fire Lord."
"That's right."
"Well, while you're watching Iroh's back," she says loftily, "someone has to watch yours."
Zuko has a look on his face, one that's ridiculously easy to read. Katara knows he's wondering how much time it would take to yank her off the sky bison and force her backward with fire until he can take off.
Appa turns to the Prince and issues a low, warning growl.
Katara smirks. "You're outvoted, Zuko."
Zuko glowers at them both... then sighs. "Fine," he grumbles, climbing into position behind Appa's horns. "Let's get out of here before your idiot brother tries to kill me."
"Don't worry," Katara says. "I leave notes."
***
Sokka,
I wasn't kidnapped.
Good luck against the fleet. Be careful.
Love,
Katara
PS. DON'T TELL DAD.
***
To Katara's extreme annoyance, Zuko refuses to divulge where they're going. This means she can't drive. When she points out that that will only exhaust him, he snaps that she needs the sleep more than he does. She almost throws her waterskin at the back of his head.
They're both irritable. And tired. And maybe a little afraid.
By the time the noon summer sun beats down Zuko's chin is dropping to his chest; twice he nearly falls off Appa's head. Katara has had enough. She wraps two ropes of water around his shoulders and yanks him into the saddle before he's even fully conscious.
He wakes up when he lands on her, though.
Katara twists from underneath his surprised form and slides down to grab the reins before he can object. They bicker for a few minutes, then Zuko reluctantly instructs her to keep heading northeast for the rest of the afternoon. He's asleep before they pass the next cloud bank.
Katara tries not to think about the familiar feel of his weight.
Her body had missed him long before the rest of her did.
***
The obviously disreputable bar is full of huge, unsavory types. Katara doesn't get intimidated quickly or easily, but she does a swift mental survey of every glass of water in the room, just in case. There's already a fight breaking out by one of the tables. "And the reason you've brought me to this seedy Earth Kingdom tavern is what now?" Katara asks suspiciously.
Zuko points at the fight. The fight involving a tall woman with long hair. "June."
Katara's already bad mood takes a sudden turn for the worse.
They pick their way through the increasingly rowdy crowd, and Katara doesn't failed to notice how all the men in the room seem to be aware of June's every movement. Katara has never failed to notice that. Even Zuko stares as, from a sitting position, the obnoxiously beautiful bounty hunter kicks a drunk in the chin.
Not that that bothers a Master Waterbender.
She crosses her arms under her breasts with a sniff.
June looks up as they approach the table, and rolls her eyes. Or rolls the eye not covered by her hair, anyway. Katara wonders bitterly if maybe she only has one eye. "Oh, great," June says. "It's Prince Pouty." Zuko makes a face -- which is pouty -- and she sips from her steaming cup before continuing, "Where's your creepy grandpa?"
"He's my uncle. And he's not here. That's what I need to talk to you about."
"Oh, is it." June glances at Katara. "I see you worked things out with your girlfriend."
Zuko's good cheek positively glows red. "She's not my girlfriend," he mutters.
"Just as well." The bounty hunter smirks at them as she moves to take a swig. "She's still too pretty for you."
A second later, a giant ice cube slides out of June's cup and hits her in the nose. "Sorry," Katara says sweetly as the ice falls to the floor and shatters. "Were you drinking that?"
"Sheesh. I was only teasing."
***
Searching for Iroh does not motivate June. The end of the world catches her attention, but still does not get her up from her seat. It is when Katara turns the woman's second drink to ice, and then the third, that June reluctantly agrees to turn her shirshu on to Iroh's scent.
As Zuko holds up one of Iroh's old sandals, Katara considers for a moment suggesting that they track Aang instead. She sets the idea aside. Aang will come back on his own. Katara has faith.
***
The ghoulish tracker animal is the fastest thing Katara has ever seen; there are several times over the course of the next twenty-four hours that she is sure Appa will be left behind. But the sky bison has reserves Katara never even imagined; the clouds part as he speeds through them, and she and Zuko are forced to lie on their bellies for fear of being blown off into open air.
The wind roars in their ears and it's too loud to speak. Katara has nothing to do but reflect on what is happening, on what has happened, on what will happen. She wonders if Zuko is doing the same. It's hard to tell. His eyes stay closed; he has never liked flying, even at reasonable velocities. Katara can't read his expression beyond 'airsick'.
She attempts, once more, to reconcile the person who chased them across the world with the person who touched her on red cushions with the person who trained Aang on Ember Island. She still can't do it. It makes her head hurt to try. The three Zukos stay compartmentalized, and Katara hides her face against the soft cushion of the saddle.
***
The endless stretch of tall stone blends into the night sky, but Katara can still see the great rent in the side, wide enough for an army to march through. Azula brought the walls down.
"We're going to Ba Sing Se," she informs Zuko, who still hasn't looked up.
A feeble whimper is his only response.
Appa lands a few minutes later and immediately rolls onto his side, panting for breath; Katara and Zuko tumble out of the saddle in a heap. Katara jams her elbow against a rock and curses. Zuko throws up.
June hops down from her mount as though she's done nothing more than take a leisurely jaunt through the countryside. The shirshu doesn't even look winded. "Your uncle's somewhere that way," says June, gesturing in towards the farmland crushed by soldiers' boots. "Nyla's getting twitchy, so he can't be too far."
Katara nods. "Thank you," she says.
The older woman doesn't acknowledge the gratitude. "I didn't do it for free," she reminds them.
"You'll get paid as soon as we find General Iroh," says Katara. She is lying through her teeth; Katara actually has no idea whether or not Iroh will have the kind of money they have promised. She doubts it. Still, a little dishonesty isn't that important when weighed against the end of the world.
June gets an ugly look on her face. "You better not have made a promise you couldn't keep." Her voice takes on a slight Fire Nation accent. "It wouldn't be honorable."
"I keep my promises," Zuko snarls, still on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Katara does not understand the Fire Nation's obsession with honor. She doesn't think she ever will.
***
It is too late to start searching, too dark to set up their tents. June snuggles against Nyla's flank; Katara and Zuko curl on Appa's wide tail.
The strong, cold wind reminds Katara just how far north the Impenetrable City really is. At first she tries to draw warmth from the fur of the sky bison -- but before long she finds herself edging closer and closer to the source of heat by her side, until she's inches from Zuko's body. A Firebender is better than a sealskin sleeping bag.
Yue shines overhead. Katara realizes Zuko is awake and quietly watching her movements. "You should sleep," she whispers.
"I know," he says.
There's no point in asking again. He would sleep, she suspects, if she came a little bit nearer... but they've never done that. A few times she's drifted off while he was there -- when she was worn out by their 'sparring', when she'd cried herself to exhaustion after Yon Ra -- but that's different than letting it happen on purpose.
Before she has too long to ponder this, however, there's a rustling noise -- and June is up in a flash, whips in hand. "Someone's coming," she says tersely.
Katara is hardly to her feet when they are surrounded by a ring of orange flame. Appa howls in terror and she's got her waterskin uncorked and Zuko moves into a grounded stance, his back against hers.
Shadows above them, playing against the light of the fire. A familiar snorting laugh. "Well, look who's here!"
Katara's mouth falls open. Zuko swears. And June snaps a whip against King Bumi's head, which puts a stop to his laughter in a hurry.
***
Apparently all old people know each other, which is disturbing on more than a few levels. The fact that her old master has met Sokka's old master has met Aang's old master... "Do you think they talk about us?" she whispers to Zuko. It's an utterly terrifying prospect.
Zuko doesn't answer. Tension rolls off of his body in waves. Bumi, however, feels the need to say: "Of course! What do you think we do when we're not playing pai sho? Knit?"
"Right," Katara mutters. It's too late to fly away.
Nyla strains against June's bonds, trying to speed their little party towards what amounts to a small village of tents. "So the kid's creepy uncle is here," June says.
"General Iroh is a Grand Master of the White Lotus," says Master Pakku, giving the bounty hunter a severe look. "Speak with respect, woman."
Katara thinks that marriage has not changed Pakku very much. Still, perhaps he is more polite in front of Gran-Gran; she can't imagine her grandmother would allow a comment like that to pass without a solid tongue-lashing.
The idea of Gran-Gran giving Master Pakku a tongue-lashing is the most horrible image Katara has ever had. She quickly distracts herself by asking for an explanation of Bumi's escape from Omashu, which leads to a general discussion of how everyone spent the Day of Black Sun. June's tale of her capture of five wanted firebenders during the eight minute eclipse is unanimously declared to be the most impressive.
Zuko remains silent.
***
Katara is put in a tent intended for a White Lotus member who has yet to arrive, and as she drops her meager sack next to her bed she considers that this is a significantly more comfortable set up than Appa's tail. Still, she is restless, despite the late hour. She wanders the camp for awhile. There are surprisingly few benders, all things considered; she thinks Sokka would have fit in nicely, and makes a mental note to tell him about it when she sees him again. If she sees him again.
Of course she will see him again.
She spies Zuko kneeling outside a large tent in the center of camp, his head bowed. It does not take much insight to guess who must lie behind the canvas flaps.
Katara approaches on soft feet. "Are you okay?"
"No," he snaps. "I'm not okay."
It was a stupid question, really. Katara kneels down beside him, and he turns his face away. "It'll be fine," she says.
He shakes his head. "My uncle hates me," he whispers. "I know it."
"He doesn't hate you." They have had this conversation before; everyone has had this conversation before. But no matter how many times they say it, the truth never sinks into the Fire Prince's head. "I talked to him. All he wanted was to know if you were okay. He defended you to Aang, to Sokka, to my dad... he loves you, Zuko."
"Exactly," Zuko says. His robes are dirty from the mud, but so are Katara's. "He loved me and supported me in every way he could... and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?"
"But you're sorry for what you did, right?"
"More sorry than I've ever been about anything in my entire life." He pauses, then glances sideways at Katara. "Well, almost," he amends.
"Then he'll forgive you," Katara says firmly. "I forgave you."
She did. It was difficult, it took a long time, and there are all kinds of things it does and doesn't mean... but she forgave him.
A moment later Zuko gets to his feet and steps forward into Iroh's tent with a heavy exhale, and Katara heads back to bed with a feeling of melancholy satisfaction; they are two emotions she never thought would go together, but somehow, with Zuko, they always fit like puzzle pieces.
***
In the morning Katara is not surprised to see General Iroh and Prince Zuko sharing tea -- nor is she surprised to see that Zuko looks happier than he has in weeks. What does surprise her, however, is that Iroh leaps to his feet with shocking agility for an old man and hugs her so fiercely she nearly falls over. "Um, good morning, General," she chokes out as the the air is squeezed from her lungs.
"It is wonderful to see you again, my dear." The embrace doesn't lessen for a moment, and Katara gives Zuko a slightly desperate look over Iroh's shoulder. Zuko hits his face with his palm.
Over the next half hour Iroh quizzes Katara on the most random details: her favorite tea, her favorite color, whether she likes her komodo hen eggs fried or scrambled, if she thought the Fire Nation weather was too warm, and a thousand and one other things of no particular relevance. Katara tries to answer though her mounting confusion while Zuko sinks lower and lower, like he's trying to melt into the ground and disappear.
Finally, as Iroh takes a breath -- having asked the urgent question of whether Katara prefers swimming in oceans or rivers -- Zuko bursts out, "Uncle, none of this is important!"
"Of course it is," says the Dragon of the West, innocently wide-eyed. "I haven't gotten her opinion on fire lilies yet."
Katara blinks. "They're all right, I guess."
"How is knowing what kind of flowers she likes going to help with anything?"
Iroh's expression manages to be appalled, amused, and pitying all at the same time. "Oh, Prince Zuko, you have so much to learn."
Zuko turns sea prune purple. "I meant," he says with slow, exaggerated patience, "help with the battle. You're the only person other than the Avatar who might defeat the Father Lord, so try to focus."
Katara does not miss his slip of the tongue, and she can tell Iroh didn't either; all merriment is gone as he sips his tea. "I cannot fight him, Zuko," he says gently.
"You can," Zuko insists. "With Katara and I there to help--"
"No, nephew, there is no time for that. You must leave for the Capital as soon as possible." Iroh's words are grave. "Ozai has declared himself Phoenix King, and Azula is about to be coronated the new Fire Lord. If you don't challenge your sister's claim before that happens, it will take civil war to remove her from the throne."
A shiver of fear runs through Katara at the thought of the Princess in full control of fleets, armies, benders... even if battle didn't spread beyond the archipelago, the Fire Nation would be destroyed. Katara has seen too much of the land and people to be anything but horrified at the thought. "We can't let that happen," she says to Zuko. "She has to be stopped."
Zuko looks as sick as she feels. "Absolutely," he agrees. Then he turns back to his uncle. "Okay, we won't be here, then. But that doesn't mean you can't challenge my father. You have all these people on your side--"
But Iroh shakes his head. "Even if I did defeat Ozai," he says, "and I don't know that I could... it would be the wrong way to end the war. History would see it as just more senseless violence -- a brother killing a brother to grab power. The only way for this war to end peacefully is for the Avatar to defeat the Fire Lord."
It's no more or less than what Katara expected Iroh to say, but Zuko shivers visibly with anger. "And if the Avatar doesn't come back?"
"Aang is coming back," Katara interjects.
"You don't know that! None of you know that!"
"Sozin's Comet is arriving, and our destinies are upon us." Iroh sets aside his cup and regards Zuko levelly. "You and I both trained that boy. He is made of stronger stuff than you acknowledge. Aang will face his destiny as well."
The flames in the camp fire blaze for a moment -- then Zuko storms off, disappearing out of sight between the tents.
Iroh sighs. "Don't worry," he says. "Prince Zuko has... difficulties with his temper from time to time."
"I know," she says, a touch sharper than she intended. Katara finds herself surprisingly annoyed that anyone, even Iroh, would imply they know more about the Fire Prince than her. She pokes at her bowl of porridge and eggs, torn between wanting to go after Zuko and wanting to leave him until he gets his ridiculous sulk out of the way. He may not like Aang, but Zuko ought to have more faith -- in her judgment, if nothing else. The Avatar will return, and he will defeat Ozai.
The other side of the world is different matter entirely. "General Iroh--"
"Please," Iroh says warmly, "call me Uncle."
Katara opens her mouth, then closes it and wonders what on earth Zuko and Iroh talked about last night. "Uncle," she says, "about Princess Azula... she's already too powerful." She struggles to articulate her concerns without implying doubt that she doesn't have. "With the comet, I'm not sure she'll be much easier to defeat than Ozai."
There is a long pause -- and then Iroh's smile is delighted. "You are worried about my nephew's safety?"
Her cheeks turn hot. "Of course I am," she says quickly. "He's part of our group. And he's a great bender, but it's going to be tough." She doesn't share the foundation of her concern: Zuko, thrown across the deck of Azula's ship, and the hour afterward that Katara spent knitting together his cracked ribs. It's all she can see when she thinks of the Fire Prince and Princess in combat.
"He will need your help," says Iroh.
"I know that." She knows that. "Master Pakku trained me himself--"
"I am not talking about bending." Out of nowhere, there is an intensity in Iroh that Katara hasn't seen before. It fills her with unease. "Bending has never been the edge Azula holds over Zuko, and that is not where he will need you most."
It's a cryptic response. Katara wants to ask more questions -- but before she can say a word, she is sidetracked with a series of questions about what sort of music she enjoys on the tsungi horn.
***
She goes searching for Zuko and runs into the side of a bear instead.
King Kuei is delighted to see her, and without much prompting from Katara starts happily describing all his adventures since the fall of the Earth Kingdom. The importance of his presence at the retaking of Ba Sing Se -- for fear that otherwise the invasion will be seen as nothing more than the final triumph of the Dragon of the West -- means that he is traveling with the White Lotus forces. Katara fears for his enthusiasm.
"You know it's going to be very dangerous," she tells the Earth King, again. "So... make sure you're careful."
"He'll be fine." June comes up behind them, loading her shirshu with packs. She looks out of temper even by her standards. "I'm keeping an eye on him -- for a price." She glares at Kuei. "Anything I want from the palace," she growls. "First pick."
Kuei nods so hard his hat almost falls off. "Yep. Anything. It's all yours." Katara notes the love-lorn admiration in his words.
Maybe this means people will start gossiping about them instead of her.
Or maybe not. Zuko appears from behind a tent, rubbing the back of his neck and looking shamefaced. Katara smiles at him -- at least his pout didn't last too long, all things considered -- and he gives her a half-smile back. A moment later a paper packet drops into Katara's hands.
"Take that," June says dryly, hopping onto Nyla as Kuei climbs awkwardly onto Bosco. "And try not to get into too much trouble, or it's you they'll be hiring me to hunt down. Again."
The packet is full of black dragon root.
Katara stalks off with thin lips and narrowed eyes, and everyone has the sense to get out of her way.
***
By noon Appa is loaded and they are ready to head west -- to face their destinies, Katara supposes. Zuko takes the reins, then pauses and looks down at Iroh. "Uncle... I still don't know if I--"
"The man who has lost his way and found it again," Iroh says evenly, "is stronger than the man who has never strayed from his path."
Katara thinks on this for the rest of the afternoon.
***
"It's my turn to drive."
"No, it's not."
"Yes, it is." Katara crosses her arms over the edge of the saddle and glares down at Zuko. It is late evening and they have been flying for hours. "Are we going to have this fight every time we travel?"
"Probably."
Katara makes an aggravated noise and flops backward, spread-eagled. "Ugh. Men. You're worse than Sokka sometimes."
She can't see Zuko's wince, but she knows it's there anyway. "I'm not that bad."
"Then prove it. Let me drive."
"No."
"See? Men!"
The rumbling noise from Appa is clearly disgusted.
There's a long, very put-upon sigh. "It's almost time to camp." Zuko pulls on the reins, and the sky bison sinks a little lower closer to the earth. "You can drive tomorrow."
Katara picks at the tangles in her hair peevishly. "You're lying."
"I don't lie," he snaps.
True. "You can't lie," Katara corrects herself. "There's a difference."
"I can too. I hid in the Earth Kingdom, didn't I?"
"And let me guess -- every time you opened your mouth, you got in trouble."
The sullen silence tells her everything she needs to know. "Yeah, well," he says finally, "Azula got all the talent in the family."
His tone bothers Katara, and she returns to the edge of the saddle to look down. "All the talent at lying, you mean."
"All the talent at everything."
A long pause, during which Katara watches the wind pull at Zuko's hair. She's not sure how he can see without it pulled back. "It's going to be a problem when you're Fire Lord," she says. Katara is an idealist, but she's not an idiot. Even Aang had to make up a story about a ball game to stop the century-long feud between the Gan Jins and the Zhangs. Sometimes leaders have to lie, and if Zuko doesn't learn how, he's going to be in a lot of trouble. "Maybe you should practice. Tell me a lie, and I'll tell you if you sound believable."
Zuko glances over his shoulder and gives her a withering look. She simply raises an eyebrow. "Fine," he says. "My name is Lee, and this--" he pats Appa "--is my uncle, Mushi."
If Sokka had declared Momo to be the Earth King, Katara would have found it more believable. "That was awful."
"Thanks. Let's hear you do--"
His words are cut off with a sharp inhale. An instant later, Katara feels it too: a strange, dizzying magnetism, like her blood is trying to move in the wrong direction. She finds herself sliding downward, unable to sit upright in a world off its axis. Zuko groans through gritted teeth -- a sound she hasn't heard in months -- so whatever's happening, it's certainly not hurting him.
The clouds race away as the sky turns red.
***
They land quickly. Zuko jumps off of Appa, staring at the barren rockland, at the glow overhead, at his own hands. His chest heaves as he paces and sucks in lungfuls of air. "This feels amazing," he says breathlessly. "This feels incredible."
"Uh-huh." Katara stumbles to the ground, working hard to stay on her feet. Gravity has completely shifted. The push and pull of her body is all wrong.
"Now I know why Sozin did it. It feels like I could take over the world, like I--" He clearly catches to whom he's speaking, because he adds hastily, "Not that I would, I'm just saying... Katara? Are you all right? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she says automatically. "I'm fine." It's partly true. As she straightens and takes a few steps, she can sense her equilibrium begin to adjust, like finding her sea legs. "It's just the comet. It... feels weird." It's a second moon, creating another tide.
Zuko doesn't look at all convinced. "You're moving like a newborn ostrich horse."
"No, see? It's getting better." Her body and chi are already compensating, working with the new sensations. A few circles around Appa -- who grunts at her in a concerned fashion, though maybe he's just hungry -- and she feels close to normal. "How are you?"
The soon-to-be Fire Lord makes a small bending motion, one that shouldn't create more than a puff of smoke. Flames whoosh ten feet in every direction. "Good," he says. "I'm good."
***
Waterbender and Firebender spar until they can barely stand. Zuko tries to refuse because of the comet, which puts them on inherently unequal grounds, until Katara points out that Azula won't care very much about fairness. She can tell Zuko's holding back anyway -- but in the beginning that's a good thing, because he could very well have killed her otherwise.
Her bending has gone as strange as her balance. The first few tries send splashes everywhere; Appa quickly moves to the other side of the clearing and refuses to come back, bellowing at them indignantly if they call in his direction. After bit of practice, though, she figures out how to adjust her stance and her flow -- and realizes that the more heavily she leans on the hybridized moves she developed from watching Zuko, the more successful she is. She uses her upper body less and focuses instead on her legs, giving up fluidity in favor of sharpness and speed; by the time they're finished she feels more like a Firebender than a Waterbender, but at least her element is obeying her again.
The Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, on the other hand, has in the space of an hour become the most powerful combatant Katara's ever seen -- once he figures out how not to burn down the entire valley by accident. It's not long before they're collapsed on opposite sides of the camp fire, gulping down tea and rice cakes. "Feels like old times," Katara says, healing a blistered welt on her forearm.
Zuko glances over... then smiles hesitantly. "If you really want it to feel like old times," he offers, "I could tie you to a tree."
Katara's both exhausted and full of adrenaline. She can't help bursting into giggles. It was so long ago. "We could have Appa dress up as a pirate!"
Zuko starts to laugh too -- or rather, the rusty chuckle that passes for his laughter. Katara has noticed that he never looks happier than when someone likes a joke he's found the courage to tell. "Use a stick as a waterbending scroll," he suggests, eyes gleaming.
She nods vigorously. "And you've already got my necklace, so..." But then she trails off, because she doesn't know how to finish that sentence.
"Yeah," he says, looking away. His thumb brushes against his pocket. Katara knows that's where he keeps it, where he's been keeping it ever since he came to the Western Air Temple and she made clear that what had happened on the ship was not to be discussed -- for all the good that did.
She's not taking the necklace back. She gave it to him. That makes it his necklace, and if he gives it back he's not returning it, he's...
Katara wasn't raised in the Northern Water Tribe or with their customs, but there's still too much symbolism there.
To change the subject she says, "I wonder if the others are okay."
"They're fine." Zuko breaks off a piece of firewood; he lights it with his hand before tossing it into the flames. "Sokka knows what he's doing."
"Can I tell him you said that?"
"No."
"Didn't think so." She reclines onto her side and rests her cheek against the palm of her hand. "I wonder if Aang's okay."
"I'm sure he's fine too." Zuko's words aren't reassuring this time. They're cold and they're sharp.
Katara's voice isn't much warmer when she replies. "He's coming back, Zuko."
"Yeah. You think so."
It feels like an insult. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demands, narrowing her eyes.
"It means you're biased," Zuko says flatly. He stares into the camp fire; light flickers against the puckered valleys of his scar. "You think he's the Spirits' gift to the universe. You never see him for what he is: a spoiled, selfish brat who's been coddled since the day he was born."
Katara is so angry that for a few moments she literally can't speak. "You don't know what you're talking about," she eventually says, once she's sure she won't bite through her own tongue. "You have no idea the kind of things he's been through."
"I'm sure it's so much worse than everyone else's life."
"I didn't say it was! But no one else is under the same kind of pressure! How would you feel if you were told you had to save the world when you were twelve?"
"I was told at ten that I'd be Fire Lord one day."
"Right, and you've never acted spoiled or selfish."
"Maybe so, but I've always done what I had to, whether I liked it or not." The fire sparks and flames brighter -- brighter than it usually would when Zuko is in bad temper, thanks to the comet fueling his power. "Aang wants to do what he wants. He doesn't want to listen to what anyone else has to say."
"That's not true! He listens to what everyone has to say! That's the problem!"
Zuko might have met the boy who came out of the iceburg, but he never knew him -- not the boy who just wanted to go penguin sledding and ride giant koi. He didn't see Aang in the Southern Air Temple, when he realized he was the last Airbender and all of his people were gone. He didn't know about the old fisherman who shouted that Aang had turned his back on the world. He wasn't there when General Fong forced Aang into the Avatar State. Zuko didn't watch as Aang heard over and over and over that he was the only one who could end the war, how the fate of the nations was all his responsibility.
"Everyone's been telling him a hundred different things about what he's supposed to think," she goes on. "It's no wonder he's confused."
"Well, I hope he gets over it before his confusion kills us all."
Katara can't believe she's having this argument, she really can't. "I've been lecturing Aang for weeks about how he ought to be nicer to you," she says furiously, getting to her feet. "Maybe I was yelling at the wrong person!"
"Please." It's her shoes that take the force of his glare. "You've never yelled at the Avatar in your life."
"What? Of course I have! That's-- you're being-- Ugh!" She stomps her foot in frustration. "The two of you drive me crazy! You're not competing with each another! You're supposed to be on the same side now!"
Zuko flinches.
Katara pauses.
She stares.
She understands.
"You are competing with each other," she says, stunned. When he doesn't reply she knows she's right, but that doesn't mean it makes sense. "Why?"
"Forget it," Zuko mumbles. "It doesn't matter."
Katara is going to drown them both, Avatar and Fire Lord or not. "This is absolutely the stupidest thing I've ever--"
"Everyone likes him." The sticks crackling in the fire are louder than his words. "Not just you. Everyone we meet. He doesn't even have to try."
Katara starts to protest, but stops herself. They'd both know she was lying. Everyone does like Aang, and even when Zuko puts in effort it takes time to warm up to him. "Some people are just more... personable," she says, gentler now. "It doesn't mean anything."
"It means they were born lucky."
"Exactly." Those are the words she was looking for. "It's only luck, you know?"
Zuko's head just lowers further. "Believe me, I know."
It's late; it seems wrong to leave him like this, but Katara isn't sure what else she's supposed to say. It's easier with Aang; she just thinks of how her mother would have handled the situation, and Aang cheers up. It doesn't work like that with Zuko. "I'm going to bed," she tells him. "Try to be in a better mood tomorrow morning."
He just snorts and uses a wrist movement to coax the flames into a glimmering red whirlpool.
It's the same bend she would use on water.
***
She can't sleep.
This is not new for Katara. Sometimes she thinks she hasn't slept -- really slept -- since the day Ba Sing Se fell. She certainly didn't on Azula's ship, and since then it has been difficult as well, because her logical mind and confused heart haven't been able to explain to her frustrated body why it can't have what it had grown accustomed to. Her body only understands that good things happened to it while in captivity, and now it robs her of restful nights. Particularly since Zuko arrived at the Western Air Temple.
But Katara is a whole person who is not made solely of urging hormones; they did not rule her nor make her decisions... except sometimes they were accompanied by an empty sadness, one that felt like a physical thing, as though her bones had been sucked clean of marrow. In those particularly uneasy hours she would give her aches some semblence of what they wanted, and close her eyes as she imagined her fingers belonged to someone else. It always left her hollow.
She is hollow now.
Tomorrow they will be in the Fire Nation, just their little invasion force of two -- three, if she counts Appa. Katara tries to remind herself that Azula only needed three to bring down the Earth Kingdom. It doesn't help. She's not Azula. Neither is Zuko.
She wonders if he's feeling hollow too.
Without consciously thinking about it, she finds herself crawling out of the tent.
The sky is still crimson on the horizon, but the night air is chilly as she tiptoes past the snoring Appa and berates herself. Not only is she allowing her baser desires to control her, she is doing it in spite of the fact that her heart is no less unsettled today than it was months ago. It is unfair to him. It is unfair to her.
But then again, they might both be dead by this time tomorrow and it won't make any difference.
These tents, taken from the Water Tribe warriors, are smaller than the ones she's used to; when she lifts the flap and Zuko sits up, his head brushes the ceiling. "Katara? What's going--"
"Nothing." She grabs his wrist, which stops him from pulling out the broadswords and slicing up whatever threat he thinks has sent her to him in the middle of the night. "I was... just..."
It suddenly occurs to her that he might say no. This isn't exactly a good time, after all. They're supposed to go to war in a few hours.
Still, she leans back and tugs on the ties of her clothes. Her hair falls into her face as she does. Katara has never started this before, never, and she knows that at any moment he might tell her he won't be used and to go back to her own bed. It's nervewracking. She has no idea who it is she's trying to seduce: the Prince, the Firebender, or the boy from the ship. Any of them. All of them.
He doesn't make a sound as she shrugs out of her robe, baring herself above the waist. There's no iron or tea or red cushions. She's too nervous to look up, so she studies the stitching on the edge of his bedroll instead, noting where she needs to make repairs to the seam.
And she waits.
And waits.
And waits.
The guilt in her chest blossoms into full-on humiliation. It was stupid of her to come here. As soon as she can open her mouth to speak she's going to apologize profusely then escape with whatever dignity she can scrounge up--
Well-known fingers ghost across her ribs, curl around her waist, and give the lightest, faintest pull forward.
Katara exhales in shaky relief and meets his lips with her own.
It throws her off that he won't begin anything. He seems content just to kiss her; he doesn't take off his clothes until she starts to tug at them; he doesn't move his hands from her sides until she puts them on her breasts; he doesn't push inside until she squirms beneath him and parts her knees impatiently. She thinks she understands why he's acting like this -- he doesn't know what he's doing, neither does she, this is more foreign than familiar -- but in spite of everything she still wonders if he's only humoring her.
Any doubts are allayed when she wraps her thighs around his hips. She feels more than hears her name against her throat, and the quick forceful firebending movements that follow are exactly what she needs.
It takes so much effort not to cry out.
They're silent for long minutes afterwards. He lies on his side and brushes a calloused palm in soft circles across her belly; it's something he's done before, and again, it feels different on a bedroll in a dark tent than it did on cushions in a metal room.
"I'm scared Aang won't come back," she confesses in a whisper.
The hand on her stomach doesn't even pause. "He will."
Katara rolls Zuko over and kisses him.
***
In the morning blazing fire peeks over the sky line, brighter by far than the sun. Zuko packs quietly. Katara adds dragon root to her tea.
Sozin's Comet gains on them with every hour they fly west.
***
A/N: This took forever. Forever forever forever. But the second half isn't too far behind, I promise. I mean, it can't get any more difficult, right? RIGHT?